


Would You Be So Kind As To Fall In Love With Me?

by Writer_or_Whatever



Series: There's a yes, in your head, gotta find where it's at (you'll lose it in the morning but ignore that) [1]
Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Rory Gilmore, Episode Fix-It: s04e17 Girls in Bikinis Boys Doin' the Twist, Episode: s04e17 coda, F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Infidelity, Season/Series 04, Sort of? - Freeform, Spring Break, bisexual paris geller, not all of it, rory is like um yeah no youre dating someone else, some of the dialogue comes straight from the episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 04:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17542961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_or_Whatever/pseuds/Writer_or_Whatever
Summary: Paris decided to bring up the one subject Rory wished to never speak of ever again. “So why didn’t you want to kiss me?”“What?” Rory asked, more confused about how this topic came up and why Paris cared that Rory hadn’t wanted to kiss her in the club earlier than confused about the actual question.“Earlier, when I kissed you in the club. You pushed me away and seemed really freaked out. Why?” Most of the time, Paris’s directness is something Rory liked about her. Now though, when Rory was very drunk and had very little filter, she didn’t appreciate it so much.“Because you didn’t want to kiss me,” Rory said, telling the truth because she was very drunk and couldn’t really think, let alone come up with any sort of semi-believable excuse.“Of course I wanted to kiss you! Ididkiss you!”-A Spring Break AU wherein Paris and Rory get together.Well, about three weeks after the fact anyway.





	Would You Be So Kind As To Fall In Love With Me?

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Dodie's song "Would You Be So Kind"  
> I know I have like five other Gilmore Girls WIPs that I haven't finished or posted (but tend to talk a lot about on tumblr), but it was late and I was watching Gilmore Girls and this just sort of... happened. So enjoy, I guess?  
> ALSO, this is new since the last time I've posted anything (it's been a minute, I know), but I have a ko-fi now! If you don't know, Ko-fi is a site where you can support creators for making work that you enjoy, but, unlike patreon and other similar things, ko-fi is a one-time small donation that's the price of a coffee (hence the name). So, if you enjoy this fic or any of my others you can support me on that (the link is in my tumblr bio or you can search for my same username on Ko-Fi).

They were surrounded by people drinking, dancing, and generally having a good Spring Break time, and Rory and Paris were just standing there, sort of swaying sort of dancing. Rory couldn’t help but compare their sad attempt at partying to their previous night with Bill Moyers’s _The Power of Myth_. Maybe it was her general dislike of crowds or maybe it was her not-so-small crush on Paris, but Rory was pretty sure she preferred eating pizza, watching a movie, and falling asleep half-sitting half-lying down with her head on Paris’s shoulder.

 

But they wanted to do Spring Break right, so they went to this packed, over-priced, hot club with Madeline and Louise.

 

“Hey, your husband’s here,” Paris said, effectively drawing Rory out of her thoughts, while she nodded toward the cute guy they’d seen three times now. He was cute, and, from their previous two encounters, probably interested, but, since he wasn’t blonde, generally angry, a girl, or her roommate, he wasn’t really Rory’s type. She looked back at him anyway, mostly because it was what was expected of her, and locked eyes with him and smiled. He looked at her and then turned back to his friend and their conversation, clearly no longer interested- or at least not at the moment. She was pretty glad because Rory had no idea what she would’ve done if he _had_ shown interest, let alone come over to her.

 

“Well that was the shortest relationship ever,” Rory said, turning back to Paris. At her somewhat confused look, Rory elaborated, “He looked, he saw, he changed his mind.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

Rory just shrugged and went back to sort-of-dancing with Paris. Well, near Paris, not really _with_ Paris, or, at least with Paris in the way that ‘dancing in the club’ with someone implies- the way a little part of her _wants_ to dance with Paris, despite the people and the heat and the fact that Paris was in a relationship- a very straight relationship at that.

 

“Why is every single person in this place having a better time than we are?” Paris sounded serious, and not the normal Paris Geller Serious, which is pretty much just how she always sounds, but serious in her ‘I don’t like the situation and am immediately going to do something (probably something rash) about it’ kind of serious.

 

“Well I don’t know that they are,” Rory said, partially because rash Paris very rarely led to good things, and, partially because Rory wasn’t having that bad of a time. Sure, it wasn’t exactly stereotypical Spring Break, but any time Rory spent with Paris was good, even when they bickered or Paris drove her mad.

 

“We’re not trying hard enough.”

 

“So we’re not great at dancing. We don’t have to _try hard enough_ ; it’s not a test, Paris.” Paris was definitely getting closer to doing something to somehow make their Spring Break more Spring Break-y and Rory wasn’t sure what it was she was planning but she was fairly sure she wouldn’t like it.

 

“We came here to do Spring Break, so we’re going to _do_ Spring Break.”

 

“Well than what do you suggest we d-” Rory hadn’t even been able to finish her sentence when Paris started kissing her. While her first instinct was to pull Paris close and kiss her back, Rory pushed her away instead, because, as much as she really wished Paris was kissing her because she wanted to, Rory was pretty sure that the kiss was 0% desire and 100% based on Madeline and Louise’s earlier suggestion that they could kiss to get things out of boys and that this was just another Spring Break Thing. “What are you doing?”

 

“Well Madeline and Louise do it.” Ah, there it is. No, Paris did not want to kiss her; Paris wanted the full Spring Break Experience.

 

“Madeline and Louise wear their underwear outside of their clothes. I don’t want to do what Madeline and Louise do!” _I want to kiss you for real_ , but, of course, Rory didn’t add that part out loud.

 

“I just thought-”

 

“Just stop thinking, okay?” Rory snapped because she couldn’t stand here and listen to Paris talking about kissing her when it wasn’t really her she wanted to be kissing. “Your thinking is very, very dangerous.” At least to Rory and her already damaged feelings it was, so she walked away from Paris and toward the door, ignoring her best friend who was following behind her, calling her name and asking her about _how well she kissed,_ and Rory couldn’t fucking take another minute in here with Paris and the people and that kiss or she’d start to cry.

 

She was almost all the way back to the door when her path was blocked by a solid mass that was the guy she’d seen earlier that hadn’t been interested but certainly seemed to be now, no doubt thanks to Paris’s fun idea to kiss her in a club full of Spring Breakers. “Hey, where’re you going?” She was pretty sure that the expression he wore on his face when he said this counted as leering and she was _so_ not in the mood.

 

“Outside,” she snapped (only a little). “Alone,” she added, pushing past him and out the door when she saw him open his mouth again, no doubt to ask to tag along and/or inquire if Paris was coming.

 

Once she was about a block away from the club and the noise and the people, Rory finally felt like she could breathe. And like she was going to cry. Her vision was blurring, her eyes were definitely stinging a little from holding back tears, and she was going to go back to their empty hotel room, despite the fact that that would be the first place that Paris would look for her. But, since she’d left Paris behind, maybe by the time Paris showed up she’d be all cried out and ready to continue Spring Breaking and being a good and understanding best friend as Paris waxed poetic about Asher Fleming, despite the fact that he was old and Rory’s professor and, _oh yeah_ , Rory was completely in love with her. Now, though, she was going to finish her jog back to the hotel so she could cry and lament over the fact that she finally knew what kissing Paris felt like (amazing by the way), but it had nothing to do with Paris _wanting_ to kiss her, which only made her feel even worse about this whole thing.

 

By the time she made it into their room and flopped face down on her bed, she found herself wishing the earth would just open up and swallow her whole because, as awful as this whole Paris kissing her thing made her feel, Rory knew that she’d be thinking about it for weeks and the knowledge of what it felt like to kiss her would work its way into her daydreams (and other dreams that Rory _really_ didn’t need to be thinking about at the moment). So, instead of thinking about those less than savory thoughts, Rory let herself have a nice well-deserved cry, despite the fact that Rory did not fancy herself the type to cry over the people she had crushes on. She’d let it go just this once, though.

 

Apparently, her good cry had become a good nap because the next thing she knew Paris was shaking her awake and saying something about Madeline and Louise and punch.

 

“What?” Rory sat up after some more shaking, quite a lot of shaking from the vaguely annoyed look on Paris’s face.

 

“Madeline and Louise are making punch with at least three kinds of alcohol, two kinds of fruit juices, and some Red Bull, and I need your support to deal with them. Rory, I know you’re probably mad about earlier but _please_ do not leave me alone with the Banger Sisters.”

 

“Fine, but only because you said please,” Rory said as she got up, straightened out her outfit she wore to the club and promptly fell asleep in, and headed out of their room and towards the deck overlooking the pool with Paris following behind her. That’s where they found Madeline and Louise sitting with four plastic cups filled to the brim with punch that Rory was sure could dissolve steel.

 

“Rory! Paris!” Madeline cried, standing up and stumbling over to them to pull them over to the table.

 

“Have some punch,” Louise said when they sat down, and, seeing no reason not to, they did.

 

Several glasses of punch later and Rory was feeling particularly bubbly and also seeing double. That’s when Louise decided it was time to drunkenly discuss relationships, though she seemed more sober than either Rory or Paris, despite having just as many drinks, if not more, than the two of them. “So, Paris, how’s the Princeton man?”

 

“Oh, Jamie? I broke up with Jamie months ago. I’ve got a new man now.” _Oh, joy, more Asher Fleming talk._

 

“Oh? Do tell,” Louise said, leaning forward in her seat, hungry for gossip, as per usual.

 

“Oh, well, he’s older, a professor, and smart, practically a genius. Oh and he writes too. And he’s handsome, _so_ handsome. Isn’t he handsome, Rory?” Paris gushed, turning to Rory for confirmation of a sentiment that Rory didn’t exactly share.

 

“Oh, yeah, handsome, sure, very handsome,” Rory said with absolutely no conviction or enthusiasm, but Paris was drunk so she took it as an agreement and went back to waxing poetic about professor Fleming and lamenting about his trip to Denver for some conference. Louise, however, was giving Rory a look that made her think that Louise was definitely more sober than she was and that she didn’t buy what Rory said about Fleming. Rory, however, didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, though, because Paris was freaking out about Asher, and Rory needed to step up and be the supportive best friend now.

 

“What if he’s sick of me and that’s why he didn’t want me to come with him to Denver?” Paris was clearly on the verge of a drunken panic, which, if it was anything like her sober panicking, would be Not Good.

 

“No, he’s not sick of you.” Rory tried to sound sincere this time, mostly because she was certain that Paris would notice if she wasn’t passably sincere.

 

“What if he’s going to dumb me?” Clearly the sincere hadn’t been enough and Rory would have to enter reassurance mode.

 

“You’re just being paranoid; he cares about you and wants you to have fun, both of you. Because there are two of you and they’re spinning,” Rory said, eliciting a laugh from the other 3 girls.

 

“You’re probably right,” Paris said, which was a sign that she was _very_ drunk because she just conceded without so much as a protest, much less a full-fledged argument like she normally would.

 

“Well, now that the world is spinning, I should probably go take a walk because I promised my mom I wouldn’t fall out of any window and I know it’s not technically a window but I don’t think she’d be very happy if I fell over the side of this railing,” Rory said as she stood up, gesturing to the railing of the big balcony they were sitting on that overlooked the pool.

 

“I’ll go with you,” Paris said as she got up and sort of leaned against Rory as they made their way towards the stairs. They walked to the part of the beach that was right in front of their hotel like that- sort of walking, sort of leaning on each other and stumbling. Once they got onto the beach and past the few people who were out having a little bonfire, they both sank down to their knees in the sand, deciding to sit.

 

“Fresh air is good; Fresh air is helping. I think. I feel better, world’s spinning less,” Paris said, still leaning against Rory in an attempt to stay upright.

 

“What was in that punch? Did we ask? Rory asked. They were both leaning against each other at this point and the fact that neither of them were laying face down in the sand was nothing short of a miracle.

 

“Nope.”

 

“Should we have?”

 

“That’s not what the cool kids do.” Right, the cool kids. Rory was pretty sure she hated the idea of being cool and of Spring Break in general.

 

“So are we done?” Rory asked.

 

“With what?”

 

“Spring Break”

 

“I think so. The only thing we haven’t done is throw up, and, trust me, by the end of the night we’ll have done that too.”

 

“Right, so we’re done?” Rory really wanted to spend the rest of their time in Florida with Paris and movies and pizza and no alcohol, enjoying her best friend’s company and pretending she wasn’t in love with her.

 

“We’re done. Let’s go home.”

 

“How?” Because home didn’t sound half-bad, especially when there was no Asher to occupy Paris’s time for the rest of the weekend, nor any obnoxious Spring Breakers.

 

“Frequent flier miles, baby. I’ll call as soon as I can get up.”

 

“Cool, I’m in,” Rory said. Then they sat there in silence for a little bit, watching the beach spin and the Earth tilt.

 

That is until Paris decided to bring up the one subject Rory wished to never speak of ever again. “So why didn’t you want to kiss me?”

 

“What?” Rory asked, more confused about how this topic came up and why Paris cared that Rory hadn’t wanted to kiss her in the club earlier than confused about the actual question.

 

“Earlier, when I kissed you in the club. You pushed me away and seemed really freaked out. Why?” Most of the time, Paris’s directness is something Rory liked about her. Now though, when Rory was very drunk and had very little filter, she didn’t appreciate it so much.

 

“Because you didn’t want to kiss me,” Rory said, telling the truth because she was very drunk and couldn’t really think, let alone come up with any sort of semi-believable excuse.

 

“Of course I wanted to kiss you! I _did_ kiss you!”

 

“No, you wanted to do Spring Break and be cool. That’s why you kissed me. Because it was another box on the Spring Break checklist, not because you wanted to. I wanted you to want to.”

 

“Oh,” Paris said before they lapsed back into silence, not a particularly comfortable or uncomfortable one, just silence.

 

Neither of them brought up the subject of the kiss after that- not once they stumbled back from the beach to get their stuff before taking a taxi to the airport, not on the plane, not once they were back at Yale for the rest of Spring Break, or for three weeks after the fact. Rory was fairly sure that Paris had forgotten, even though Rory remembered their conversation on the beach and she was pretty sure that she’d had more to drink than Paris, because that sort of thing was not something Paris Geller would let go without at least one follow-up conversation demanding to know what the hell Rory meant. But Rory was content to not open that particular can of worms and to, instead, return to her illusion that everything was fine and she wasn’t very obviously in love with her oblivious best friend.

 

That illusion was shattered when, nearly a month after Spring Break, Paris decided to bring it up one night as they were both lying in their beds trying to go to sleep. “When you said that you wanted me to want to kiss you what did you mean?”

 

“I think that’s pretty clear what I meant, Paris,” Rory said, rolling over onto her other side so she couldn’t see Paris where she was laying in her bed in her bed on the other side of the room.

 

“I know what you meant but-”

 

“Then why did you ask?” It was late and Rory _really_ did not want to be having this conversation, now or ever, but especially not now at midnight on a Tuesday night.

 

“I know what you meant but did you mean you wanted _me_ to want to kiss you or that’s just how you feel in general about being kissed?”

 

Oh. _Oh._ Rory was pretty sure that, regardless of whether she tells the truth or not, this was the moment that would decide her relationship with Paris from here on out. She had the urge to lie, to say some shit about being a romantic and not wanting to be kissed for no reason, but she wasn’t sure she could take it if that was how this whole thing between her and Paris resolved. Maybe it was because it was late or maybe Rory was going crazy, but she found herself telling the truth, “I wanted _you_ to want to kiss me.”

 

“Oh,” Paris’s voice was quiet but easily heard in the silence between them. “Can I?”

 

“Can you what? Kiss me? Why?” Rory wanted to just say yes but she wasn’t going to just be used to satisfy Paris’s curiosity.

 

“Because I can’t stop thinking about what it was like to kiss you and I want to do it again.” Rory wasn’t really sure what she expected Paris to say but it wasn’t that.

 

“Um, okay,” Rory said, turning back over and sitting up against her headboard to look at Paris, who was sitting in a similar fashion and looking back at her. “Like now… or?”

 

Paris just nodded in response to Rory’s unfinished question and got up and walked across the length of their tiny shared room until she was standing  next to Rory’s bed. “Can I?” Paris asked, gesturing toward Rory’s bed.

 

“Oh, right.” Rory scooted over as much as she could on her twin bed, but she moved over enough that Paris could sit next to her, both their backs against the headboard and with one of their sides pressed together.

 

“So should we-” Rory didn’t get to finish her sentence because Paris actually was kissing her and it was so much better this time, partially because Paris actually _wanted_ to kiss her, but mostly because Rory was kissing her back this time.

 

They kissed until Rory was short of breath and pulling away and resting her forehead against Paris’s, who was also breathing kind of hard. “That was…” Rory couldn’t think straight because it was late and Paris was kissing her because she _wanted_ to, and kissing her extremely well, at that.

 

“Yeah,” Paris said, sounding equally spaced out.

 

Rory was about to lean in and kiss Paris again when a thought struck her. “What about professor Fleming?”

 

“What?”

 

“Professor Fleming? Asher Fleming? Your _boyfriend_?” Rory said, pulling away from Paris as much as she could without falling off her bed.

 

“Oh,” Paris said, sounding kind of lost. “I don’t know.” They both sat there for a moment, Paris staring out into space and Rory watching her. This continued on for a couple of minutes before Paris, without saying anything to answer Rory’s question, leaned in and kissed Rory again, softer this time with her left hand coming up to cup Rory’s face. It was a nice kiss and Rory really didn’t want to end it but she also had no interest in kissing Paris if Paris had decided she was going to continue kissing the professor also.

 

“Paris, stop,” Rory said as she pulled away and Paris tried to follow her movement and keep kissing her.

 

“Why?” Paris sounded genuinely confused, which surprised Rory because Paris could not really not know why Rory didn’t want to keep doing this when she’d already asked Paris about her relationship, but she figured she’d have to tell her then.

 

“Because I don’t want to be your little secret or whatever while you continue to do whatever it is you do with the professor. I _like_ you, Paris, but I’m not going to be someone you mess around with when you’re drunk or when your boyfriend is busy. So I need you to just figure this out for yourself. Whatever you choose, I’ll be here for you, but you need to make a _choice_ , Paris.” When Rory was done saying her piece, she laid down and turned on her side away from Paris.

 

“You’re right,” Paris said, getting up and laying down in her own bed.

 

When Rory woke up in the morning Paris was already gone, which, while not exactly _unusual_ , it wasn’t all that odd either. The fact that Paris still wasn’t home when Rory got back after class and her dinner card-swiping shift was a little odd, though.

 

“Hey, have either of you seen Paris?” She asked Tana and Janet, who were both in the common room when she got back.

 

“I’ve only been home for a little while, but I haven’t seen her,” Janet said from her place on the floor where she sat, temporarily pausing her sit-upping.

 

“I’ve been home since one, and I haven’t seen her, but I’m not the most observant,” Tana said without looking up from where she was writing math equations on her leg in sharpie.

 

“Well, thanks anyway,” Roy said, moving into her and Paris’s room, which was also empty. She didn’t want to dwell on it, though, so she sat down at her desk and started working on getting ahead on her reading for her modern poetry class. She was through with her poetry reading for the rest of the week and was about halfway through an economics paper that was due the next week when Paris finally came home.

 

“Hey, where have you been?” Rory asked, looking up from her work to where Paris stood just inside the doorway of their room. She was standing really still, she hadn’t even shut the door behind her. Paris Geller was a whirlwind normally, a force to be reckoned with, so a still Paris is definitely an indicator of something gone awry. “Paris?” Rory stood and moved towards her best friend. She reached behind her and shut the door of their room and guided Paris to sit down on her bed because Rory didn’t know what happened but she was fairly certain that whatever it was would probably require sitting.

 

They sat in silence on Paris’s bed for what felt like an hour, but was, in reality, probably only about five minutes, before Paris spoke, voice quieter than Rory had ever heard it, “I broke up with him.”

 

“With Asher?” Rory didn’t want to sound anything but neutral, since she didn’t know that Paris breaking up with Asher meant that they’d get together and because Paris seemed clearly shaken up by it.

 

“Yeah. It was getting weird between us, probably because I really wanted to kiss you for most of that time, and he said he expected that it was coming. He said he wasn’t mad and he didn’t sound it.” Despite the fact that nothing Paris said seemed particularly bad or the reason for her weird mood.

 

“Okay, that’s good, right?” Again, Rory was trying to sound nothing but neutral.

 

“It was until right before I left,” Paris said.

 

“Why, what happened?” Rory said, her carefully constructed neutrality giving way to concern and protectiveness. Yes, Asher Fleming might be her professor, but if he did something to Paris Rory would undoubtedly find a way to kick his ass because Paris was her best friend.

 

“He asked if I was leaving him for someone else. He said I could be honest and that I owed it to him to tell him if there was someone else.”

 

“You absolutely don’t _owe him_ anything. But what did you say?”

 

“I said there was. He asked me who and I said it was you.” Paris paused and Rory sucked in a sharp breath, not because Paris said she left her boyfriend to date her but because she was pretty sure she could tell where this story was headed. “He asked if he was just an experimentation phase or if you were. He said ‘Paris, it’s fine and completely natural to experiment with people you aren’t _really_ attracted to, but I was just wondering which of us that was.’ And I told him that it was neither, that I was attracted to both of you, but wanted to date you now. He laughed. _He laughed,_ Rory. Is this how it’s going to be whenever I come out as bisexual to anyone? Are they going to laugh and ask which I _really_ am- straight or gay?” Paris sounded like she was beginning to get angry by the end of her sentence, which was good because it meant that Paris was coming back to herself. Shell shocked quiet Paris was not a version of her best friend that Rory liked to see.

 

“Not all the time. I told my mom I was bisexual and she was really great about it. Well, she cracked a lot of jokes and asked if, when I became famous, I would introduce her to Ellen because she’s convinced that all famous gay people know each other, but that’s just Lorelai for you. Dean didn’t take it so well at first, asked if I was just dating him because I was just biding my time until I found a girl I liked and a way to come out publicly. It was the second biggest fight we ever had. My dad still doesn’t know, but he’s not that close and could barely stand the idea of me having a boyfriend so I’ve been waiting to tell him I’m bi. So, no, it won’t always be like that when you come out as bisexual,” Rory said in a long-winded attempt to try to reassure Paris that not everyone would react like Professor Fleming had.

 

“So, your mom won’t be surprised when you bring me home to introduce me as your girlfriend?”

 

“Uh, girlfriend?” Not that Rory minded that idea _at all_ , but they hadn’t settled on anything other than the fact that they were both bisexual.

 

“Well, yeah. I mean, you seemed pretty content to kiss me, and with the idea of kissing me in the future, but not when, and I quote, I was ‘drunk or Asher was busy,’ so I assumed you wanted to be with me. I broke up with Asher for you,” Paris said very loudly, clearly out of her funk from earlier. Rory was quiet, processing, because while she had hoped that was why Paris wanted to kiss her last night and why she broke up with Asher, Rory hadn’t been sure. When Rory didn’t say anything immediately, though, Paris took it as Rory rejecting her, so she stood up, intent on leaving the room, and said, “fine. I guess I was wrong then. I’ll just go take a walk, feel free to convince one of those two out in the common room to switch rooms with you for the rest of the semester. Personally, I’d go with Tana since she seems easy to convince.”

 

Rory stood up and grabbed Paris’s arm before she could make it more than halfway across the room and pulled her back toward her side of the room where Rory stood. She was going to explain and reassure her that yes, she really really wanted to date her, but the moment Paris was in front of her, Rory couldn’t help herself and she leaned in and kissed the other girl. Paris was surprised at first and took a moment to kiss back, but once she did, the kiss was perfect, like the kind that Rory used to read about, where sparks fly and your head spins because it’s so wonderful, but Rory didn’t believe were real because she’d been kissed before and hadn’t ever experienced any of that, but now she had and the romance novelists were right, it was amazing.

 

“I _do_ want to date you, you just didn’t give me any time to actually say that before you stormed away,” Rory said softly, fondly, and while smiling at Paris.

 

“Oh. So, just to be clear then, we _are_ dating?

 

“I would say that we are, yes,” Rory said, sounding particularly giddy about, which matched the smile that Paris got when Rory said that.

 

“Perfect,” Paris said, leaning in to kiss her again. When they broke the gentle kiss, Paris spoke again, “Well, as wonderful as this is, Gilmore, I have homework to do.” With that, Paris went back out into the common room, grabbed her bag, came back into their room, and sat down at her desk and became completely absorbed in her biochemistry book. It was just so _Paris_ that Rory couldn’t do anything but shake her head and smile fondly.

 

“I’m just going to go make a phone call,” Rory said, grabbing her phone and her jacket and heading toward the door.

 

“Whatever,” Paris said, clearly distracted.

 

Rory went out of their room and outside, then she pulled out her phone and called her mom.

 

“Hey, sweets, what’s up? Need a break from stuffing your brain full of information about dead poets?”

 

“Ah, you guessed it. That or I wanted to talk to you about something.”

 

“Oh, gossip, do tell,” Her mom sounded excited and it made Rory smile, it was just, _so_ Lorelai.

 

“Well, if you must know, I’ve started dating Paris,” Rory said, expecting the usual press for details.

 

“Uh, yeah, I know,” Her mom said, throwing Rory for a loop. She knew? How in the world did her mom already _know_.

 

“What? How?”

 

“Um, you told me?”

 

“What do you mean ‘I told you,’ it just happened,” Rory asked, more confused than she’d possibly ever been.

“Just happened? I thought you guys got together in Florida.” _Oh._ Rory was kind of drunk when she called her mom in the airport, telling her she was coming home early and about her Spring Break, while Paris was getting their tickets and such. Apparently, Rory’s drunk babbling about kissing and her feelings for Paris made her mom think that they had actually gotten together.

 

“Uh, no. We just kissed in a club. And talked about kissing on the beach while we were drunk.”

 

“Oh. Okay, well, let me be the first to tell you that you are not very good at explaining things when you’re drunk. You can’t be one of those authors that writes drunk and edits sober like Hemingway.”

 

“Noted,” Rory said, laughing.

 

“So, since you and Paris _didn’t_ get together in Florida, tell me about it. I want details.” Lorelai’s gossip hunting tone was back.

 

“Okay, so after our talk about how I didn’t want her to kiss me in the club because she didn’t actually want to, she didn’t bring it up again.”

 

“Not at all? She just accepted it with no argument? That’s not very Paris-like at all.”

 

“ _I know_ , so I just assumed she didn’t remember. I mean, we did have a lot to drink, but then, last night, _three weeks_ after the fact, she asked me about it and I said that I did want to kiss her, just not in a club because it’s what everyone else is doing, and she asked to kiss me.”

 

“She asked to kiss you? You said yes, didn’t you. Because you’ve been pining for like four months for this girl.”

 

“I did say yes. We kissed and it was good, _really good_ , but then I remembered the part about Paris already being in a relationship.”

 

“Oh, right, the professor. So, did she break up with him or,” Her mom sort of trailed off without finishing her question, but Rory knew what she meant.

 

“I refused to do any more kissing or anything else because I told her she had to make up her mind.”

 

“Good, good, that’s very mature of you, honey.”

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

“So, she broke up with the professor, then?”

 

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

 

“Because you called me all giddy talking about how you and Paris are together now? The puzzle pieces, they fit together, hon,” Her mom said, laughing a little bit at Rory’s confusion.

 

“Oh, right, yeah, she came home in kind of a weird mood after she went to see him, but we talked about it and then we kissed some more and then-” Rory didn’t get to finish her sentence though, because she was interrupted by her mother.

 

“If there’s any dirty bits coming up in this story, I would like you to just give me the reader’s digest version _please_ . Any salacious details will scar me for life, Rory, don’t do that to your mama. We’re best friends, but I don’t need to know _everything_ , regardless of if it’s with Paris or anyone else, male, female, or otherwise.”

 

“There are no dirty bits to this story, calm down,” Rory said, laughing at her mother’s dramatics.

 

“Alright, alright, so you were kissing and then what?”

 

“And then she said she needed to do some homework and pulled out her biochem book.”

 

“How very Paris.”

 

“Yeah,” Rory said fondly.

 

“You sound happy, kid.”

 

“I am, mom. I really am,” Rory said, smiling.

 

“Good. Now, go back in and watch your girlfriend geek out.”

 

“I am not going to do any such thing,” Rory said, a little embarrassed because she _would_ probably go back in there and watch Paris study because the fact that Paris is so driven and smart is part of why Rory liked her so much, but that didn’t mean that she wanted her mom to just say that.

 

“You definitely are,” Her mom said, definitely teasing her a bit about it now.

 

“Alright, fine, maybe I will. Goodbye, mom.”

 

“Goodbye, hon,” Her mom said, hanging up.

 

Rory closed her cellphone and pocketed it, smiling like a loon as she headed back into her dorm room, maybe or maybe not to watch her girlfriend study. Regardless, she was pretty sure that this was shaping up to be one of the best evenings in Rory’s life.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at [@writer-or-whatever](https://writer-or-whatever.tumblr.com/).  
> Feel free to drop a request, they're open.


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